


Across the U.S and Elsewhere

by Maksvell



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Anal Sex, Angels, Breakfast, Eldritch Abominations, F/F, F/M, Gay Sex, Gen, Hotels, M/M, Pepperland, Venture Brothers References, Waffle House, references to other media
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-06-27 00:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19779250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maksvell/pseuds/Maksvell
Summary: Snapshots from the lives of Rick and Stan spanning the late 70s to 2013





	1. Connecticut - 1979

Wednesday sat on the motel room couch. A single unlit Patriot Brand Cigarette dangled from her lips as she gave an annoyed glance towards her useless boyfriend Eddie, who was watching with interest as her customer Rick Sanchez was piddling about the motel room, high as a goddamn kite on the acid she sold him. His boyfriend, Stan Pines did not seem to keen on it, he sat next to her, parallel to Eddie as he watched Rick haphazardly assemble some sort of device out of several pennies, electric tape, and some alien crap he didn’t care to know about. As he was working, Rick suddenly assumed an attack sort of stance. It reminded him of a frightened baby deer. He stood like that for a solid two seconds before fleeing into the parking lot, Stan quickly followed after him to make sure he wasn’t freaking out or off to do something stupid.  
Rick tore open the trunk of the car and began rummaging through their stuff, he dug out a metal harness thing and quickly began to put it on. Stan ran up next to him, “Ummm, hey. Rick, buddy. Is everything alright?”  
Rick turned to him and gave him a little laugh, “I’m feeling a little toothpaste cylinder right now. D-don’t you worry, I’m gonna beat the Russians.”  
Stan could only nod in agreement, “Yeah, that sounds fantastic, babe. You go take care of those Russians.”  
Rick tapped the centre of the harness and he was immediately enveloped in an aura of noxious smelling green energy before flying off into the sky, looking like a shooting star. It was a rather beautiful sight if the suit didn’t make everything around it stink of skunk ass and old piss. Stan was really focused on this but was immediately thrown back into reality whenever he heard Eddie shout, “Get off me, you crazy bitch!” come from the motel room and ran back to break up whatever spat was happening before they got the cops called.  
Space melted around Rick as he soared high and higher. He broke free of the atmosphere and everything seemed to slow, if just for a second. He could make out every intricate detail, the way the clouds and pollution parted around him as he exited to the vast array of stars that surrounded him, shining like a thousand curious eyes in the infinite void. He then proceeded to speed up, his body briefly twisting as he tore a hole open in the fabric of reality. He was determined to figure out how to get to the other universes, even if it killed him and in his state of intoxication he was well aware of his goal. His body returned to its normal form as he found himself surrounded by innumerable red orbs of awesome and immeasurable size moving around him like marbles slowly darting past one another. He started to cry at what he considered, at that moment to be the most beautiful and harrowing thing in existence the veins of reality.  
Stan is a strong man, a boxer and a sneak thief by trade, and he was having trouble keeping a seventeen-year-old drug dealer from stabbing her boyfriend with a massive wooden stake. Quite honestly he believed this girl to have the strength of a goddamn rhino, she looked as though she couldn’t have weighed more than eighty pounds soaking wet, but she also had his wrist in a grip that was threatening to turn his bones into dust. And clinging to his other arm was Eddie, another seventeen-year-old dirtbag, but one who had a widow’s peak and a set of teeth that seemed to jut out of his mouth whenever they were closed, he was trying to swipe at his girlfriend with his incredibly sharp fingernails.  
“You cheating bitch, I’ll fucking gut you!” shouted Eddie as he dug his nails into Stan’s arm, attempting to get at Wednesday.  
“I didn’t cheat on you, you obnoxious dipshit!” spat back Wednesday who had, by that point broken Stan’s grip and began to run at Eddie before being snatched by the collar of her dress.  
“We haven’t had sex in over a month, you fridgid bitch.”  
“That’s your evidence? And that’s real big talk form someone who doesn’t have a pulse.”  
“Then why?”  
Wednesday was about to begin and explain that she doesn’t care for sex, especially with him, seeing as how he is a terrifying dickhead, but Stan roared over them, “I don't give a hot fuck why you two aren’t having sex. As far as I’m concerned you two are nuisances who are gonna get the cops called if you keep fighting, and we will all go away for a VERY long time if they find the stuff.”  
The teens fell silent and ceased their fighting, however, their moping was short lived as a cacophonous sound that was like a thousand baby birds being put into a gigantic blender. They vacated the dingy motel room and in the parking lot saw a towering blonde haired figured dressed like a theatre’s usher, cradling Rick in her arms, in the same manner, one might cradle a newborn. She was admittedly very difficult to look at. It was as though her being was somehow luminous in some way without a noticeable source of visible light. The only things any of them could really focus on without getting a headache was her full currant coloured lips and the set of perfectly porcelain teeth that they just barely hid as they curled into a smile. The three were so transfixed upon her that they did not notice the fact that the sky above them seemed to be bleeding like a fresh wound.  
“Wednesday Addams,” spoke the Usherette in a soothing sing-song voice that, to Stanley Filbrick Pines moved him to tears. Tears that were born of a sorrow for which he could not place. “It’s been a long time since I last laid eyes upon you. How’s Grandma?”  
“She’s fine, a little peeved that you haven’t been around for tea lately.”  
“Well, Mary does keep me busy...Anyways I found this lost gent floating around in the Bleed, he isn’t too damaged, but in order to repair what he did to reality I shall require something of you, Wednesday Addams.”  
“Something of me?”  
“Yes, to repair the damage I require fuel. Fuel in the form of…” she turned her steely gaze fixed upon Eddie, “He shall do. Wednesday Addams, do you remember the first ritual your grandmother taught you when you were only a little girl of no more than two?”  
Wednesday nodded and ran behind Eddie and placed his arms in a lock before marching him over to the Usherette. He kicked and he screamed, for he knew of what was going to come, and for the first time in a very long time, Eddie felt scared. Stan followed behind and the Usherette handed him his boyfriend who had just barely regained consciousness.  
“Hmmm, w-what’s going on?”  
“Apparently you broke space, genius.”  
“Hmm? oh, h-how fun. I saw the beating heart of god, Stanley...What the hell’s going on here?”  
“Dunno, some angel broad or something came down from the sky with you in her arms and now Wednesday is doing some sort of a ritual to make her fix your mistake.”  
Their eyes widened as the Usherette’s body split open from the very center of her body and peel up and down, turning into what appeared to be a massive set of blood red lips and bone white teeth that were disembodied and floating in a black haze that was darker than the far depths of space where not even the light of stars can reach. Wednesday had held down Eddie and began to carve into his forehead some odd symbols and characters using a long knife that she had heated with her zippo lighter.  
“Goddamn you to hell, Wednesday!” screeched Eddie as he writhed in pain, attempting to escape, only to find his wrists and ankles were seemingly magnetized to the surface of the asphalt parking lot.  
Wednesday did not speak, she was too focused from her mouth arose a language far older than the apes that make this planet their home. A language that was so alien and monstrous it made absolutely no sense to Rick who had sampled alien languages throughout the universe. As she chanted the lips that had once been the Usherette began to speak to her in a voice as powerful as the intense rage of the sun, “Edward Munster, your immortal body and soul will act as proper fuel for the restructuring of reality. Know that your sacrifice was not in vain.”  
“Fuck you! I will sodomize your father with your mother’s tibia, you frigid bitch!” with his final and rather disgusting words spoken, several long tendrils shot forth from deep within the lips and embedded themselves into the chest of Eddie Munster. They dug in deep, their tips slowly breaking through the sternum and into the heart, silencing his pained screams forever. Then they receded slightly as Wednesday stepped away from the corpse of her former boyfriend and towards her customers who were staring in shock as the tendrils hooked into the teen’s skin and began to peel it off like one might the skin of a banana. Slowly the lips consumed down to the bone which eventually turned to a fine powder and was swept away by the wind. The lips faded away and within seconds the bleeding in the sky had too. Leaving Rick, Stan, and Wednesday alone in the parking lot. Wednesday during this time had dug a massive cigar out of her pocket and begun to blow smoke at the happy adjacent drifter couple.


	2. Waffle House - Lemon Brook, Georgia - 1980

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan goes to waffle house. Things go awry.

They stayed in an old hotel just off the highway, near a small town in Georgia called Lemon Brook. It was four in the morning when Stan woke up. The darkness of the room was tamed by the streetlights that entered through the uncurtained window that revealed a Waffle House on a hill just a small walk away from their hotel.   
Stan turned and tried to shake Rick awake. Rick only responded with a half awake, “No, not tonight you horny bastard.” before returning to the bliss of sleep. Stan felt a powerful rumble in his stomach and an intense longing for the greasiest breakfast on god’s old green world. He sat up on the bed and breathed in. His muscles still ached from the previous days' activities. He was in his mid-thirties and he could begin to feel that bastard father time whittling away at his physique. He was developing a paunch that he didn’t quite care for, but Rick really seemed to love. He went through the process of getting dressed and took the room key before beginning his venture to the Waffle House.  
The Waffle House was a solitary structure at the peak of a hill that seemed to Stan to be as tall as a mountain. Its bright lights shined through the darkness like some sort of lighthouse, but to Stan it was more like a bug zapper, drawing him in with the promise of light and some breakfast. Stan began to trudge up to the building and into its empty parking lot. It didn’t bother him at the time, but he did notice that it lacked a means of getting from the parking lot to the actual highway. All that Stan was focused on now was food. Covered in sweat and still a little sleep deprived, he walked in and sat down in a booth near the back of the building. There were two other patrons in the Waffle House, a sharp dressed Texan man who wore a leather blazer in place of a suit jacket and tan slacks who sat across from an Indian woman wearing skinny jeans and a flannel shirt. They were playfully flirting with one another in a manner that made Stan annoyed, they each kept laughing obnoxiously at some little thing the other would say or do. He walked over to the jukebox and put on Walkin’ After Midnight by Dolly Parton before going back to his booth. Upon sitting down he was immediately met by a waitress whose nametag read Debby. Debby was about five foot nine and had a mess of curly red hair that hid her eyes.  
“What can I get for ya, handsome?” said Debby with a slight smile and a click of her pen.  
“A cup of black and a couple of sausages for starters, I’ve got someone waiting for me who’d be pissed if I didn’t get him anything.”  
“I hear that,” she wrote down his order on a little slip of paper and went to the back.   
Stan started eyeing the flirty couple as they sat a few booths away from him. They had ceased laughing, but they spoke in whispers which were almost as annoying as the laughter. To Stan, the idea of someone speaking being able to understand them was just irksome. It was like hearing someone talking to you in a dream, you understand them but you can’t tell what they’re saying. The Indian woman took out a small nine-millimetre pistol and sat it down on the table between them but out of sight of Debby. Stan quickly got up to leave but was quickly stopped when they got up faster. The Texan fired off a 38. special into the air and Debby screamed.  
“Now, I need ya’ll to be calm. Neither of us wants this to turn into a bloodbath, understand. We’ll just be takin’ a bit o cash for the road,” the Texan approached Stan slowly, the pistol trained on him. Stan raised his arms. To the air. Who the fuck was this asshole? Thought Stan to himself as he stood there feeling like a deer in headlights. The Texan and his girlfriend were young, much younger than Stan. Couldn’t have been older than twenty at the most. Young and impulsive. Stan smiled to himself, he and Rick had been just like them, they were still like them in most respects. He looked down as the man stood a foot away from him. “Empty out your pockets.”  
Stan locked eyes with the man and grabbed his wrist, the Texan discharged five shots into the window behind him, shattering it and causing Debby to scream again. Stan applied a bit more pressure to the Texan's wrist and with a satisfying crack his grip loosened and he dropped the pistol. His girlfriend trained her gun on Stan and fired, he ducked and the bullet went into her boyfriend’s shoulder. He let out a pained yelp and Stan saw that it exited the wound, missing his head by a half a centimetre or more. He heard her gun clack against the gun as she ran up to the Texan and Stan. Stan tossed him against her as she ran and she cradled him as she tried to support him.  
“Baby, I-I’m so sorry,” she kept repeating over and over as he gripped the wound. Stan meanwhile had picked up the gun and was pointing it at them.  
“Now, you two just get the hell out of here, understand? If I was a cold-blooded son of a bitch I would not hesitate to put a slug in the back of your head and leave you in some ditch. Get the hell out of here!”   
The couple fled the restaurant in a rush. Stan walked over and picked up the Indian woman’s nine millimeter and sat down in his booth, both pistols calmly placed next to him. He turned and saw Debby standing behind her station, still noticeably terrified alongside a man with dark blonde hair that he presumed to be the cook, “Sorry, about all that. It'd be a really big favour if you’d wait until tomorrow to call the cops.”  
“S-sure, anything you want,” said Debby nervously.


	3. New York-1980

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Stan rob a super scientist.

Stan had been to New York City once before. His dad took him there with his mother and brother when he was just a little kid. Stan couldn’t exactly remember why he was there. He just remembered his dad going on some irritate tirade about how “That Caravaggio son of a bitch” was dead to him. Stan went to school with a Caravaggio, vanished a month or two into the first semester of the tenth grade and no one ever saw him again. The boy’s dad always said something about sending him to a school in California but was always vague about the details when discussing it with Stan’s old man.  
Stan and Rick were seating on a bench watching traffic as Rick essentially swallowed a gyro that he bought off a cart for two bucks. The lamb meat was of dubious origin, and it tasted like rat. That being said, it was the tastiest rat gyro Rick had ever eaten. He began to speak in between bites of the unknowable grease mess, “Y’know, we, we gotta make some fast cash, and soon.”  
“Well I don’t know what to tell you, you spent the last of our petty cash on that...thing.”  
“Worth it though.”  
“Alls I’m saying is, it’s not like we can hit a liquor store or something like that. This isn’t like Peach Creek. New York’s crawling with those showboating assholes in capes and masks. We’d be lucky if we didn’t get strip-searched by The Dart or The Blue Morpho.”  
“No, the, the Blue Morpho died in ‘72.”  
“Shit. Well, that’s one less cape to worry about, right?”  
“Eh, I don’t mind them as much...n-now the super scientists of New York are pieces of work, let me tell you. You’ve got your Ventures, your Quests, hell m-maybe even Richards. My point is, I am better than all of those muscle-bound wannabes,” Rick took another bite from his gyro, “I-I’d like to see one of those clowns find their way into The Bleed.”  
“Speaking of, what exactly was that?”  
“D-don’t worry about it, all you need to know is that once we get the supplies I need, we’ll be made,” Rick pulled out his backpack and showed Stan a crude gun-shaped device that he was working on, “I-it’s a little rough, but it should do the trick until I make a better one. All I need is a power source. W-what I have in mind is super rare, and that Stanley is why we are here, in the big apple. The most dangerous city in America to be a professional thief.”  
“We’re going to rob a scientist aren’t we?”  
“You bet your juicy ass we are.”

The lab they were breaking into wasn’t quite what Stan had expected. It was in the basement of a house in Greenwich Village. It had a very warm and oddly autumnal feel to it. There were just seemingly endless wooden benches covered in machine parts. There was also just a wooden chair seated in the dead centre of the entire set up. The break-in went without a hitch. They went in through the kitchen where the door to the basement was located squarely next to the refrigerator.   
“So,” whispered Stan, “How exactly did you know this place was here?”  
“Doctor Z and I go a bit back. I was experimenting with, with zero-point energy and flying cars and I took him to Vegas when I was 17. Hell, I-I even got the nerdy bastard laid.”  
“Cool, so where is he now?”  
“G-got busted on a narco wrap earlier this year.”  
“Shit...He got busted on that and not any of this terroristic bullshit in his basement? There are pipebombs down here.”  
“Well, it’s n-not like i-it’s within the DEA’s purview to handle his, his hobbies, something like this would have to be taken up with something like uhhh...OSI or maybe his group, the Guild.”  
“Right, so what’s this fuel source look like again?”  
“Big cylinder, glowing bright green.”  
“Right,” as soon as Stan looked around he saw it was placed upon a small stand just before him, as he approached it, he was immediately seized from behind by the collar of his shirt and lifted from the ground. Turning to face his attacker, Stan was met with a robot of some sort with a neutral human face and eyes that were hidden behind a blue wrap around shades. He was dressed in some sort of a helmet and a blue gaudy outfit with a massive ‘V’ that extended from his crotch to his shoulders.  
“Intruder!” said Vendata in a neutral, mechanical voice as it tossed Stan into a birch table and the chemistry set that rested upon it. Rick rushed at Vendata who swiped him away with the side of his hand with the ease of someone swatting at a fly.  
“What the fuck are you?” said Stan. He stood up, brushing bits of glass off of his leather jacket and digging out his brass knuckles.  
“I am. Vendata. You are an intruder.”  
“Well, I’m going to shove my boot so far up your metal ass it’ll break your teeth.”  
Behind Vendata, Stan could see Rick snatching the fuel source and make a gesture for him to run. Stan promptly ignored him and uppercut Vendata. Vendata was only knocked back a foot he proceeded to trudge towards him, his arms raised. Then, without warning the floor gave out beneath him and Stan saw Vendata looking down upon him as he fell. Then he began to pick up speed, his long mullet was flapping about wildly and he looked down upon what appeared to be some sort of blue planet. He then let out a terrified scream as he searched around frantically for some sort of a structure, he saw Rick was falling with him, intently focused. He manoeuvred over to Rick and clung to him, still screaming.  
“C-calm the hell down, you big baby, we’re going to be fine. J-just hang on.”  
“Rick...you son of a bitch, if we die out here, like this I will never forgive you.”


End file.
